Why I Took My Ex Back Even After They Betrayed Me Twice

I never thought I’d be her.

The girl who goes back.

The one people side-eye at brunch.

The one who hears “Didn’t you learn your lesson?” more than her own name.

But love makes hypocrites out of all of us.

I used to be so sure of what I’d do in situations like this.

“He cheats, I leave.”

“She lies, she’s gone.”

No drama. No back-and-forth. Just clean cuts and closed doors.

Until I met someone who shattered every rule I made for myself.

The Beginning

We met on a weekday.

Nothing romantic — just coffee, awkward laughter, and the kind of small talk you forget ten minutes later.

Except I didn’t forget.

He was the kind of person who made eye contact like it was a commitment. Who didn’t rush to speak just to fill the silence. Who made the silence feel safe.

It was slow at first. Then fast. Then all at once.

You know how they say people don’t fall in love — they recognize it?

Yeah. That.

The First Betrayal

It was a message I wasn’t supposed to see.

A “hey” at 1:43 AM from a girl I’d never heard of, with a heart emoji like a slap to the face.

I asked him. He panicked. Fumbled. Lied — poorly.

Eventually, he told the truth. Kind of.

“It didn’t mean anything.”

But it meant something to me.

Still, I stayed.

Because he cried. Because I cried. Because we were both scared.

And because I believed in things like fixing what’s broken, instead of throwing it away.

The Second Time

This one wasn’t subtle.

It was a weekend away. A literal disappearance.

No calls. No texts. Just... air.

When he came back, his face said it before his mouth did.

“There’s someone else.”

I don’t remember much after that. Just packing my things, deleting his number, and crying so hard I had to pull over on the way home.

I swore that was the end.

And for a while — it was.

But Then...

Months later, he messaged me.

Just two words: “I’m sorry.”

I should’ve blocked him. I know that.

But something in me paused. Not out of hope. Out of unfinished grief.

He told me he was in therapy. That he hated who he’d become. That he finally saw himself clearly — and it made him sick.

He didn’t ask me to take him back.

He just wanted me to know that he got it now.

Why I Said Yes (Again)

Not right away.

Not with flowers or promises or grand gestures.

But slowly.

Through long conversations. Through boundaries. Through months of unlearning and relearning.

I took him back not because I forgot what he did — but because I remembered who he was before he lost himself.

Because I believed in growth.

Because I was healing too — and part of healing, for me, meant learning how to trust myself again.

What Nobody Tells You About Forgiveness

It’s lonely.

You don’t get applause for staying.

You get judged. Questioned.

Sometimes you judge yourself the hardest.

Every good day is shadowed by a question:

Is this real? Or just calm before the next betrayal?

But there’s something sacred in choosing love again — not blindly, but with eyes wide open.

We didn’t go back to what we had.

We started over — as two people who now knew what not to do with each other.

So, Was It Worth It?

I don’t have a fairytale ending for you.

We’re still figuring it out.

Some days, I trust him.

Some days, I scan his phone when he’s in the shower.

Healing isn’t linear. And neither is love.

But I’ve learned that forgiving someone doesn’t mean excusing what they did.

It means choosing peace — with or without them.

And right now?

I’m at peace.

If you’ve ever gone back to someone who hurt you — you’re not weak.

You’re human.

And sometimes, that’s the bravest thing you can be.